


Thanatos Scowled

by Darthkvzn



Series: There Was Once An Avenger From Krypton [6]
Category: Danny Phantom, Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, F/M, M/M, Minor Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, ghost lore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:22:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29382696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darthkvzn/pseuds/Darthkvzn
Summary: Tasked with recruiting a number of powerful young heroes with supernatural, often magical abilities, Nico di Angelo finds himself visiting the strange city of Amity Park. He’s on the hunt for their cherished hometown hero, the so-called Ghost Boy that went by the name Danny Phantom. Problem is, he’s been out of the spotlight for about six years – and Danny’s powers make him notoriously good at evading all efforts to track him and his secrets down.The Son of Hades is no detective, but he figures he can start his search with Amity Park’s current heroine – a younger, rowdier, female version of the superpowered young man he’s looking for. But where Danny was beloved, Danielle is divisive – and thus, fair game for evil ghosts, human ghost hunters, and of course, the shady paramilitary group known only as the Guys in White.Which is to say, she’s unlikely to cooperate...(A sequel to "A Cold Day in Erebus")
Relationships: Danny Fenton/Sam Manson, Nico di Angelo/Will Solace
Series: There Was Once An Avenger From Krypton [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1316201
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23





	1. A Nice Place To Live

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! This is the first of several follow-ups to "A Cold Day in Erebus", which saw Nico entrusted by SHIELD and Doctor Strange with forming a team of supernatural heroes centered around him, in order to take on threats of a magical nature the Avengers might not be able to deal with. I highly recommend reading that fic first, and I'd also suggest giving the rest of the series a look, as it all takes place in the same universe.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

“I just want you to know, I think this is a _terrible idea._ ” –Nico grouses, closing the dossier he’s been studying for the past fifteen minutes.

“I believe you’ve mentioned it, once or twice.” –Strange rolls his eyes, almost fond but not quite there. “Perhaps closer to _twenty._ ”

“You _do_ realize you’re trying to build most of this team from what most would _charitably_ consider _child soldiers,_ right?” –Nico narrows his eyes. “There _have_ to be older candidates out there. What, did your magical high school reunion go that badly?”

Strange snorts, but he does it in this _infuriatingly_ dignified way. “The makeup of this team is _entirely_ up to you, Nico. Though I’ll admit, most of the choices we’ve presented you with _are_ quite young.” –he says, his visage darkening. “Most of the old guard is long gone, I’m afraid, lost to some conflict or another along the centuries. “ –he says, cryptically. “The unfortunate truth is that many of the heroes of _this_ age were forced to take up arms at a young age. _You_ would know; there were precious few demigods of renown between the end of the Trojan War and your _own_ birth, Nico.”

Nico takes a moment to think about it. He knows there’s _always_ been demigods, both Greek and Roman – the Romans being _significantly_ more successful at keeping themselves alive – but it’s also true that quests on the scale of the any he’s been a part in were practically unheard of since the times of Theseus, Heracles, and Bellerophon.

Strange nods along, like he has some inkling of what he’s thinking. “The work of the Sorcerer Supreme is never _done,_ of course, but evil _typically_ comes in waves. My predecessor was _powerful,_ and her work alone staved off the worst of our threats...but she became isolated, and let many of the bridges _her_ predecessors had built crumble entirely. It’s my job to build those bridges back, and gaining young allies in the various supernatural communities will be an important asset going forward.”

“’Allies’ is a _pretty_ strong term for us. I’m only doing this because my Lord Father requested I help you.” –Nico crosses his arms. “And _you_ try saying ‘no’ to the ruler of the Underworld.”

“Co-workers, then.” –Strange shrugs. “The point is, things like the Chitauri invasion and the Titan insurrection you faced aren’t isolated incidents, and neither is the fact that they happened in such close succession. We are _vulnerable,_ and the powers that be will undoubtedly see their chance and take it.”

Nico thinks it’s something of a vicious circle, though – as a demigod, he knows monsters see powerful champions not as a _deterrent,_ but as a _challenge._ The stronger their alliance grows, the more their foes will seek to prove themselves against them. He’d like to get on with his assignment, though, so he chooses not to argue further. “ _Fine,_ let’s go.” –he says.

“Oh, I’m not joining you.” –Strange says, like it’s a silly notion. “I’m _far_ too busy.”

The demigod raises an eyebrow. “You _do_ know it’s bad luck for a demigod to quest solo, right?”

“Please, Nico. This is hardly a _quest._ It’s supernatural HR work.” –Strange smirks. “Now, chop-chop. You have a ghost to track down.”

The sorcerer makes a circle with his hand and a portal appears under him, which he unceremoniously falls through. In an instant, he’s no longer in Strange’s Sanctum Sanctorum, but spit sideways onto the side of a highway, beneath a large city sign welcoming him to his destination. He curses as he adjusts to the new locale – it would’ve been _so much easier_ to shadow travel here, but probably not _quite_ as funny for the wizard.

The sign above him depicts a stylized version of Amity Park’s skyline, as well as a cartoon version of his quarry. “’Home of Danny Phantom’, huh?” –he reads. “So, where _has_ he been the past six years?”

* * *

Amity Park is a moderately large Minnesotan city close to the Great Lakes, as well as the Canadian border. It really _does_ seem like a nice place to live, but the idyllic cityscape belies a rather macabre secret; the city is reportedly a _hotspot_ for supernatural activity, particularly so-called ‘ghost’ attacks.

Nico can’t help but scoff at the notion; ghosts can’t _attack,_ of course. Only the most stubborn of souls can evade Thanatos’ scythe and manifest upon the mortal world without the aid of a necromancer, and even then, they can’t ever interact with it. He should know; even beyond being, y’know, the _Prince of the Underworld,_ he used to summon Bianca before she chose rebirth, and try as he might, he could never touch her, let alone bring her back to _some_ semblance of life. Ghosts, quite simply, can’t come back the way they allegedly do in this town – as powerful semi-corporeal beings capable of causing large amounts of property damage.

Something else _must_ be afoot. But that isn’t his mission here; he’s only supposed to track down the city’s hero, the self-described ghost hunter known as Danny Phantom. The problem is, no one’s seen him in half a dozen years.

According to S.H.I.E.L.D.’s _surprisingly_ sparse files on him, Danny had a two year period of _intense_ vigilante activity in the city, starting in 2004, before disappearing from the public eye. He was initially vilified by Amity’s inhabitants – see the aforementioned _copious_ amounts of collateral damage, as well as several instances of seemingly _out of character_ behavior, such as holding the mayor hostage for no real reason – but eventually beloved by the populace for proving his heroic intentions in saving the city from a major ‘ghost’ invasion. Danny continued to save the city from increasingly grave threats – which never made national or even _state_ news, likely owing to the Mist – until a final confrontation with his nemesis, a vampire-like specter known as _Plasmius,_ after which they both disappeared, never to be seen again.

The official story is that Danny made the ultimate sacrifice in order to stop Plasmius’ evil plans, whatever they were – which seems just a _tad_ illogical, if they’re both supposed to be, y’know, _undead_ – and they both perished in the aftermath. The city honored their fallen hero by placing a statue made of polished steel and blackened titanium – a monochrome color scheme meant to reflect his black and white jumpsuit – in front of City Hall.

They also commissioned a museum themed around him and his ghostly enemies, because even though the _actual_ truth of the supernatural events in the city is seen as an absolute _hoax_ by the larger American public, the rumors of it _definitely_ drive the city’s economy through tourism. _Hooray for capitalism._

Nico makes his way into the city. His sword and cuirass earn him a few odd looks – perhaps the mortals here can see him a little more clearly, if they really do regularly face the supernatural. No one really bothers him, though, likely on account of his chthonic aura – most people instinctively know better than to trifle with a son of Hades. Regardless, he zips his aviator jacket closed.

He finds a tourist kiosk quickly enough. The bored teen managing it avoids his gaze, which suits him just fine – he just needs to look at the map and get his bearings. Nico figures his best course of action is to wait for a ghost attack; Phantom himself won’t come, of course, but one of the other ghost hunters that have followed in his footsteps certainly will, and that’s the best lead he’s got. According to the map, most of the ghost attacks occur downtown, so he figures out a bus route and boards the first one that comes along, a few minutes later.

The bus instantly makes Nico shake his head– its sides are emblazoned with the same kind of cartoon design of Phantom, this time posed flying forward. He can only imagine this is but a taste of Amity’s infatuation with their lost hero.

Nico feels a momentary stab of jealousy. Not for himself, but for his friends; for all that his fellow demigods have suffered and sacrificed, without a hint of recognition from the public. He hopes it’ll change, once the Mist fades away completely and the mortal and magical worlds fully _merge,_ so to speak – that Percy, Annabeth, Jason, Piper, Leo, Hazel, Frank, and all of the other heroes who saved the world from Titans and Giants in secret will be _just_ as beloved as Supergirl, Iron Man, and evidently, Danny Phantom.

“It’s a little _much,_ huh?” –someone says, standing beside his chosen seat. Nico looks up, rather annoyed, finding a young woman in baggy clothes and a flat-rimmed baseball cap knowingly staring down at him. If Nico had to guess, he’d say she’s about twenty.

“I just got here.” –he shrugs. “But I imagine most of the city is _covered_ in merchandise, yeah.”

She sits beside him, not bothering to ask for permission. He wouldn’t have given it, so he figures that’s fair. “Phantom was _great,_ don’t get me wrong. But Amity Park spends all of its time celebrating someone who’s _gone,_ while treating their _current_ heroes like _crap._ ” –she grumbles.

“ _Right._ ” –Nico narrows his eyes. “You’re very... _passionate_ about this.”

She gives him a half shrug. “I know a thing or two about being ignored.” –she says. “I used to be homeless.”

His shoulders get just a little bit less stiff. He knows the feeling. “I’m sorry to hear it. I can relate; I, uh...I guess I was homeless for a long time, too.”

“Life as a millennial, huh?” –she says, with a lopsided smirk. “What’s your name, skull kid?” –she asks, nodding at the ring he’s been unconsciously twirling for a little while.

“Nico di Angelo.”

“ _Ooo,_ fancy name.” –she notes. “Sounds... _Latin._ ”

“ _Italian,_ actually.”

His impromptu companion tilts her head. “Aren’t they the same?”

He snorts. He knows from personal experience as Ambassador to Camp Jupiter that they aren’t. “You’d think so, but no, not really. Italian is more like the other Romance languages than Latin itself.”

“ _Huh._ Learned the new thing for the day, I guess.” –she says. “Well, I’m Danielle. You can call me Ellie.”

“ _Charmed._ ” –he says, just a little bit sarcastic. “Were you just looking to make a new friend, or...?”

Ellie snorts. “Not in so many words. Just got a vibe from you, I guess. And I’ve got nothing better to do, so I figured I’d try and figure out what your deal was.”

Nico gets the impression that she’s not exactly talking about him being from out of town. “And? What _is_ my deal, Ellie?”

The girl narrows her eyes. Nico could _swear_ her blue irises glow neon green for a moment. She doesn’t get to answer, though, because the sky outside suddenly _changes colors._

The son of Hades turns, frowning as his spine tingles with an odd sense of _wrongness._ It’s no wonder; what was a perfectly nice, overcast morning has turned into something almost _biblical._ The sky is a vivid shade of purple, and the sunlight filtering through the clouds has taken on an eerie green tint. The bus pulls up to the curb, several stops before its destination.

Ellie curses beside him. Nico turns, just in time to see a strange, frigid vapor leaving her mouth. “What’s going on?” –Nico asks, though he thinks he has a pretty good idea.

“Ghost attack.” –she says, her tone clipped. People start filing out of the bus – they don’t look _panicked,_ necessarily, but they also don’t seem entirely confident. “Come on, let’s get you to safety.”

“That’s not really necessary.” –he drawls. “I can take care of myself.”

She scoffs. “What, your _LARPing gear?_ ” –she asks, sarcastic. He raises an eyebrow, to which she responds by rolling her eyes. “It’s not exactly _inconspicuous,_ man.”

“It usually doesn’t need to be. _Regular_ mortals can’t see this armor and sword for what they are. They might see another jacket, or a strange, printed t-shirt.” –he reasons. “Which means you’ve either got the gift of Clear Sight...or you’re supernatural yourself, in some way.”

Ellie looks a little panicked. Her worry turns to surprise as someone crashes through the bus’s windshield, showering them both in fragments of glass, plastic, and metal. The newcomer is _definitely_ supernatural – they’re clad in some kind of high tech full body armor, black with a crimson sheen and circuitry to it. Their visor is transparent, which lets him see the dazed young woman inside. She groans, rising to her feet, and scowls at Ellie. “I could _use_ the help, you know.” –she says.

The girl groans. “Haven’t you guys ever heard of a _secret identity?_ ” –she shakes her head. “Who is it this time?”

“Technus.” –the armored one grumbles.

Ellie winces. “Tucker’s upgrade didn’t work?” –she asks.

“It _worked,_ alright. For about _thirty seconds._ ” –she sighs. “Bastard made my armor. No firewall’s keeping him from messing with it forever.”

“Yeah, I got’cha. I’ll take over. Watch this guy for me, will you? I think he’s got some kind of _death wish._ ” –she says, then clenches her fist. “Goin’ ghost!”

Nico stares, then, somewhat dumbfounded, as a ring of blinding light forms around Ellie’s waist. It splits in twain, one half travelling upward, the other passing over her hips and legs. Her clothes are instantly replaced with a two part jumpsuit exposing her midriff; the suit is silver and black in color, with a stylized logo on her chest – one he keenly recognizes as standing for Danny Phantom’s initials. Her hair turns snow white, her eyes glow an otherworldly green, and the strange rings disappear, but a white, supernatural aura clings to her form like a film, lighting up the inside of the wrecked bus.

Ellie winks at Nico, then her whole body becomes translucent, taking on a cyan tint. She effortlessly floats upward, and phases through the ceiling, leaving them behind.

“Bet you don’t see _that_ every day, huh?” –the other girl teases.

The demigod shakes his head. “ _Surprisingly?_ No...no, I don’t.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellie faces down Technus, Technopath Master of Long-winded Introductions, for what feels like the umpteenth time. It's nothing she can't handle, but she still lets the weird LARPer that is Nico di Angelo help.
> 
> This, as it turns out, is extremely bad news...for Technus, at least.
> 
> Afterwards, the trio huddles down for an academic exchange - or, as Nico might call it, a "how in Hades do you even exist" Q&A session.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! This chapter ended up quite a bit longer than I assumed it would, so please bear with me as I focus on a few other fics I've gotten behind on!

Nico can’t even _imagine_ what the public repair expenses for Amity Park must be like.

It’s not like they do it with magic, either, Olympian or otherwise; he’d be able to sense the traces of it in the buildings and streets if, say, some charitable child of Hecate or Egyptian magician were secretly helping out. It’s good ol’ brick, mortar, and elbow grease all the way – and _copious_ amounts of taxpayer dollars, he has to assume. Perhaps that’s why they’ve gone so hard into the Danny Phantom merch.

At any rate, Ellie’s doing battle with some kind of _octopus mecha,_ and it’s not doing the public infrastructure any favors. From what Nico can tell, the villain is some sort of _technopath,_ possessing and transforming various pieces of machinery into a sort of cohesive, cephalopod-inspired war machine, blasting beams of neon green energy and taking swipes with tentacles made of cables and wiring at Ellie’s strange, floating alter ego.

“So, how often does this happen?” –he asks, nonchalant, double-checking the straps on his darkened Celestial Bronze cuirass.

The woman in the suit – Valerie, she mentioned offhandedly – shrugs. “Regular hauntings are an almost daily event. Something big like Technus’s little temper tantrum here? _Maybe_ once a month.” –she explains. She’s checking her own armor’s systems, probably trying to make sure the entity attacking the city isn’t messing with them anymore. “They don’t respect Ellie as much as they grew to respect Danny.”

Nico narrows his eyes, unsheathing his Stygian blade. “Well, maybe I can help with that.”

Valerie’s suit lights up crimson, all manner of high-tech weaponry morphing from the metal and pointing at him – or rather, at his _weapon._ “Uh...any idea why my suit _hates_ your sword?”

“If it’s _alive_ in any way, its edge will drink all of its life force.” –he says, deadpan. “I’d advise you not to come anywhere near it.”

The armored huntress hums. “... _noted._ ” –she mutters, looking him up and down. “What are you, some kind of Fright Knight fanboy?”

“I have _no idea_ who that is.” –Nico shrugs. “I’m a demigod – half human, half Greek god. Son of Hades, God of the Dead, Ruler of the Underworld, and Master of all its Riches.” –he recites, almost from a script. He’d stop at ‘son of Hades’, but the gods tend to like it better when you bring up all their titles and accolades – even his eternally grumpy Lord Father.

Valerie blinks. “... _sure,_ why not. I guess Amity Park is weird enough for _children of ancient_ _gods,_ too.” –she shakes her head. “I assume you know how to swing that sword of yours?”

“I might.” –he says, managing a smirk. “What should I know about this _Technus_ guy?”

* * *

Ellie’s day could _conceivably_ be going worse.

Sure, Technus is on a _tear,_ the likes of which he hasn’t been since he hijacked the world’s satellite grid back in Danny’s heyday. And yeah, she just _went ghost_ in front of an _absolute stranger_ – no matter how familiar his presence might feel. At the very least, she’s confident that the boisterous tech master is a threat she can handle quickly, and on her own, as opposed to the likes of Vortex and Undergrowth.

She _might_ just be able to finish this fight before the _Bastards in White_ show up.

“ _Ghost Child!_ Your _feeble_ attempts at challenging my _technological superiority_ fall short of the Phantom’s, _as usual!_ Surrender now, and I, _Technus! Master of all Complex Machinery!_ ...shall grant you a swift end!” –the villain taunts, his battlesuit’s tentacles writhing with glee.

“Oh, please, you’re just glad Danny isn’t here to _banish you to the Ghost Zone_ without so much as a Fenton Thermos.” –she smirks, throwing a couple tentative ecto-disks at the war machine’s hull. As expected, they barely scratch the supernaturally enhanced metal, which swiftly mends itself. “You should be glad I still find your boasting kinda funny. Otherwise, I might’ve shut you up already.”

Technus cackles. “Foolish girl! Your _chimeric origins_ render you _insufficient_ before my _heavily upgraded might!_ ” –he claims.

Ellie’s mood instantly sours. _Of course_ this idiot would press the _clone_ _button._ “And just like that, I’ve suddenly forgotten why I found you entertaining.” –she sighs. Her eyes and aura glow brighter, as more of her power flows from her core. Technus seems to sense this, mutely holding up a trio of tentacles in defense. She blasts at the tentacles as she flies around, faster than the large machine can track her. Her ecto-beams burst through the outer layers, leaving behind smoking trenches of molten metal and sparking, broken electronics. Technus’ ectoplasm-charged nanites work overtime to make repairs, while the pronged tips of his tentacles shoot searing plasma bolts that, while slow, appear to track her flight path.

She curses, forced on the defense, blasting at the lethal projectiles. They burst easily, but all that heat has to go somewhere, instantly superheating the air around in explosions large and powerful enough to burst windows and partially melt the pavement, concrete, and bricks of the street and buildings in their vicinity. Fortunately, the city has long been upgraded to defend itself; the nearby lampposts light up green, and automatically project ecto-shields in the form of partial domes to create a fairly impenetrable barrier protecting the houses and businesses at either side of the road. It restricts her motion too, of course, but it’s a small price to pay to better protect Amity’s residents.

She hates admitting it, but she’s not as good at it as Danny was. Too hot-headed, too easy to distract from the things that _really_ matter in a fight – like protecting civilians and keeping collateral damage to a minimum, for example. The others keep telling her she’s just like Danny was when he first started, but the thing is, _he_ grew out of it. By the end of his too-short career, he’d make what could’ve otherwise been an apocalyptic event seem like a simple spar between rivals, even friends. Even after all these years, she keeps making the same mistakes – and most of the usual suspects sneer at her for it. Ghosts, for all that they pretend to have _some_ semblance of civilized behavior in the afterlife, are nonetheless a primal sort, and power is still what they respect the most.

Unfortunately for her, power is something she’s a _little bit_ short on.

“Coming through!” –Valerie yells, making a beeline towards Technus. Ellie dives out of the way as the Red Huntress’s hoverboard deploys a series of missiles, targeting each individual tentacle. A dozen explosions of ectoplasmic flame shred the appendages to molten slag – and though the repair process starts immediately, Ellie can tell that the ghostly inventor is slowing down.

And then the _kid_ comes in, and Ellie fears for her life.

Even with his strange armor and that unnerving sword of his, Nico looks somewhat unassuming; he’s deathly pale, seeming almost malnourished. The worryingly severe bruising under his eyes tells her that he barely sleeps, and that when he does, it’s fitful and hardly replenishing. If this were anyone else, she’d immediately go and see about procuring a hot meal and maybe some _mild sedatives_ for him.

But Nico di Angelo _must_ be someone special. His presence feels like...well, like when Ember dared her to approach the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep – like a blazing, all-consuming flame _barely_ held back from eradicating everything and everyone around him. It’s a sobering thought, thinking of this gangly, surly-looking teenager as someone on the level of _Pariah Dark_ – or perhaps, even _beyond_ the deposed Ghost King’s might.

At any rate, Nico saunters forward with no fear to be found on his face. The single-edged blade he easily brandishes is as dark as midnight on a new moon, giving off a faint purple glow and wine-colored glints as it catches the ectoplasm-warped sunlight. The shadows bend, then, presumably to his will – they thicken and darken, becoming corporeal, black claws inexorably encircling Technus’ robotic frame. The ghost squeaks in fear, commanding his damaged tentacles to spear through the fearsome teenager, but between her and Valerie, they manage to keep him safe. Once the robot is within his grip, he commands the shadows to bring the armature crashing down, crushing it against the pavement.

Technus struggles, but he’s trapped. “W-what _is_ this!?” –he demands. “Who _dares_ restrain the technological might of _Technus! Master of All Contraptions, Great and Small!?_ ”

Nico lifts his chin. “I am Nico di Angelo – Prince of the Underworld, and King of all Ghosts.” –he declares, the whites of his eyes glowing like a blacklight. Ellie’s spine tingles with fear and awe at his display of power. “Nicolai Technus, your soul has _far exceeded_ its allotted time on Earth. You have evaded Death’s grasp, somehow, and used your borrowed time to _terrify_ and _hurt._ Pray to whatever gods you believe in that the Fields of Asphodel will take you – because the _Erinyes_ will _not_ have mercy on your soul.”

He brings his sword down, and stabs it into the pavement, a fissure opening ahead of Technus’ faceplate. “In the name of Hades, I release you from this form!” –he intones, placing his hands on the sword’s pommel. A crack of thunder can be heard in the distance, as well as an ominous rumbling, deep beneath the earth.

“No, no, _no!_ ” –Technus squeals. The green glow on his electronics fades, and the makeshift warsuit falls apart into its myriad components – regular technology that Technus’ powers shape-shifted into his robotic armor. The ghost himself is revealed at last; he tries to fly away from the breach, but he’s being sucked in. He turns invisible, intangible, and even blasts electricity at Nico, but the self-styled Ghost King simply blasts dark energy from his palms back at him, cancelling out the attack.

Desperate, Technus turns to her. “ _Ghost Child,_ stop this madness! I yield, I yield!” –he pleads. “Take me back to the Ghost Zone, I’ll never return!”

Ellie purses her lips. As horrible as this is, Nico didn’t exactly lie – Technus isn’t one of the ghosts who’ve ceased their hostilities, or even toned them down. He remains as obsessed with conquering the world and having his genius forcibly recognized as he was when Danny was fourteen.

At any rate, the time for mercy runs out.

It’s like Technus splits in half – one half is pure, highly concentrated ectoplasm, and the other appears as Technus does when intangible. The ectoplasm half holds for a second, before gravity takes hold and it becomes a puddle amidst the battle’s debris, while the intangible half morphs into what Technus must’ve looked like in life – an older gentleman in a lab coat, with wild, wispy gray hair and tiny sunglasses. The ghost only manages a confused glance before disintegrating into smoke and going down the fissure, which neatly closes after him.

Technus is no more.

* * *

The authorities arrive – police, fire crews, paramedics, and an armored van that can only belong to the Guys in White – so Ellie and Valerie high-tail it out of there. They tell Nico to meet them at a certain address, which he chooses to walk towards. For all he knows, taking another bus will result in _another_ banished soul.

He sighs, thinking of how terrified both of the girls looked. He supposes he can see the reason – letting his power flare like that is like bringing a little piece of the Underworld to the surface, with all that it conveys. The human afterlife isn’t so bad, even if you end up in Asphodel, but _most_ people are at least _somewhat_ afraid of death, and when he unleashes his power like that, the difference (at least to mortals) is negligible.

He’s like a sneak peek at Hades, both the realm and its ruler.

For the umpteenth time, Nico wonders why the Olympians chose _him_ of all demigods to lead this... _PR initiative_ of theirs. He’s glad they didn’t choose Percy, even though he would’ve been the logical choice – he’s the most powerful, good-looking, and easiest to like demigod of their generation, and people might even recognize him from the nationwide manhunt he was subject to, back when Zeus’ Master Bolt was stolen – but he deserves his rest, and so do all the others. Directionless as he has been ever since Gaia was defeated, he couldn’t exactly turn down the job, but...he’s the _opposite_ of a poster boy. They couldn’t have found a less enticing demigod if they’d tried.

Soon enough, he finds himself at a fairly nondescript apartment building. He gets buzzed in, and told to head to the uppermost floor. The rickety old wrought iron elevator is, of course, out of service, so he heads up six flights of stairs and ends up at the final apartment on that level.

Ellie opens the door before he even gets a chance to knock. She looks him up and down, pursing her lips, and wordlessly ushers him in.

Valerie’s inside what he assumes is their shared apartment, considering the amount of old takeout boxes and presumable anti-ghost technology getting worked on most every surface. Still, it’s cozy enough, if a little cramped – he’s certainly known worst places to live, especially those first few months spent mastering his shadow travel.

“So, like...what the _fuck_ was _that?_ ” –Ellie asks, looking morosely at him immediately after she closes the door.

Nico immediately crosses his arms. “I can only explain what I understand.” –he warns. “I sensed a human soul underneath that strange, supernatural veneer, and I pulled it out. He was a _century_ or so past his expiration date, so I had him sent to the Underworld for judgement, like any other. Everything else that happened, like that business with the _green goo?_ I honestly have _no idea._ ”

“The green goo is a substance called ‘ectoplasm’.” –Valerie supplies. “What a ghost’s physical form is made of, and what powers our weapons and other such ghost-hunting devices. It’s the only thing that can reliably hurt a ghost.”

“How can you just...skip past everything _else_ he just said?” –Ellie asks Valerie, baffled.

“Nico told me he’s the _demigod son of Hades_ already.” –Valerie shrugs. “From everything we just saw, that _definitely_ checks out.”

Ellie blinks. “Hades as in the _Greek god?_ Like, _Age of Mythology_ Hades?”

Nico snorts. “I don’t think he’d appreciate the comparison.” –he says. He hasn’t played that game himself, but Annabeth’s a huge fan. He’s more of a _tabletop game_ sort of person. “But yes, my father is the ancient Greek god most people _probably_ picture blue-skinned, flame-haired, and wise-cracking. He _loathes_ the Disney version more than any other, I think.”

“And your mom?” –Valerie asks, intrigued.

“ _Deceased._ ” –is all he says. Maria di Angelo is a sore subject for everyone in his family – for Nico, specifically, because he can’t remember her _at all_ , beyond the tiny glimpse he saw of them as a family, _right_ before Zeus killed her. The Lotus Hotel was almost as dangerous as the waters of the Lethe. “But she was human. Hence the _‘demi’_ part of _demigod._ ”

Ellie shakes her head in disbelief. “Are there others like you?”

“Hundreds.” –he nods. “Probably _tens of thousands,_ if legacies – the descendants of demigods who survive to adulthood – are counted. The gods are rather _prolific._ In fairness, demigod children are the easiest way for them to influence the mortal world, these days. Since they haven’t been actively worshipped since Classical Greece and Rome fell, they can’t openly defy the ancient magical laws that bind them as easily as they could, back in their heyday.”

“...so they _bang humans_ and manipulate their kids, instead.” –Valerie surmises. “ _Classy._ ”

Nico winces. “It’s not _that_ cynical – most of the time, at least. There are a great many threats to the mortal realm that no law enforcement or military force could face – ancient monsters that roam the world to this day, resentful gods and Titans that would like nothing more than to see the Olympians’ reign overthrown, other pantheons that don’t care for humanity as much as our parents do...” –he trails off. “ _Yes,_ the gods can be fickle and cruel, at times. For all their power, they’re just as fallible as any mortal. But they exist at mankind’s leisure, in a way; they may not be worshipped much, anymore, but if humanity were suddenly wiped out, there would be no one left to remember their names. They would fade away into the elements and concepts they embody, no matter how immortal.”

“So they get to exist because people remember their myths?” –Ellie asks.

The demigod shrugs. “It’s more complicated than I made it out to be, but that’s the gist of it, yes.” –he says. “It’s something of a...symbiotic relationship. The gods get to exist and interact with the world as individuals, reining in the elements and concepts under their respective domains. We, in turn, get to exist without worrying about a _hydra_ messing with the morning commute, or the souls of the dead aimlessly wandering the mortal realm. Though clearly, Thanatos seems to be _missing something,_ here.”

Ellie shakes her head. “I have _so many questions._ ” –she admits. “What about the _other_ gods? The ones that _aren’t_ Greek? You mentioned the _Roman_ gods, too, but aren’t they just the same with different names? How does a _Greek Underworld_ even jive with _our_ afterlife in the _Ghost Zone?_ ”

“It’s a case by case basis with the other pantheons; the Greek and Roman gods are the same beings but wholly distinct individuals, kinda like that _Father, Son, and Holy Spirit_ thing the Catholics believe in; and I _really_ don’t know.” –he lists off. “I don’t understand how the creatures you call ghosts even _exist_ to begin with. An _actual_ ghost – the wandering soul of a deceased human being – is the entity I pulled out of that _ridiculous cartoon character_ you were fighting. They have no power at all in the mortal realm – can’t even interact with it, let alone _shoot lasers_ from their hands.”

Valerie crosses her arms. “Look, I might not be Maddie Fenton, but I _have_ studied ghosts.” –she says. “I think I might have a good theory for how our concepts of ghosts can coexist.”

“Do tell.” –Nico drawls.

“Alright, so...what happens when we die, according to you?” –she asks.

Nico sighs. It feels like he’s eleven years old again, reciting the day’s teachings on his princely duties for Queen Persephone. “When the Fates decide you’ve run the length of your life thread, your soul will separate from your mortal body. Depending on your cause of death, it will then be taken by Hermes (rarely, as he’s a busy god), or more likely by Thanatos, God of Peaceful Death, or one of the _Keres_ – Goddesses of Violent Death. _Whoever_ it is, they’ll lead you to the entrance of the Underworld, where you’ll be asked for payment by Charon, who’ll ferry you across the River Styx and into the Underworld proper. Your soul will then be judged by a panel of divinely appointed judges, who’ll refer you to one of three final, _eternal_ destinations: the Pits of Tartarus, the Asphodel Meadows, or Elysium, from worst to best.”

“Really? Even if you’re religious?” –Valerie wonders.

Nico purses his lips. “There’s… _jurisdictions,_ I guess you’d call them. If you’re a _particularly_ pious Muslim, for example, your soul is bound to end up in the afterlife you were promised. But the truth is, there’s many, _many_ people who don’t qualify for the afterlives they grew up with. They may have inherited a belief system they merely follow out of custom, or fallen off their path somewhere along their lives. The Underworld takes in most of these souls, and gives them the closest approximation of the afterlife they might expect – though you’d be surprised at how many are fine with the Underworld as it is.”

“And if you’re an atheist?” –Ellie raises an eyebrow.

“You’re given the choice to drink water from the Lethe.” –he says, carefully. “Human souls are functionally _eternal,_ so you can’t just… _vanish into the void_ when you die, if that’s what you want. The next best thing is erasing your memories and personality, which functionally fulfills that purpose. The soul will continue to exist, eternally wandering the Underworld, but the individual will be no more.”

“But there _are_ souls that don’t end up in any of the… _afterlives,_ I assume?” –Valerie surmises. “You mentioned Thanatos was missing something, here in Amity Park.”

Nico crosses his arms. “It was more of an _assumption,_ but I suppose it can happen. Something like a _hundred and fifty thousand people_ die every day – even beings unburdened by time and fatigue might _miss a couple,_ here and there.” –he admits. Hades will probably berate him for letting mortals in to the failings of the Underworld’s bureaucracy, but it’s all in the spirit of figuring out this mystery. “Have I given you enough _spoilers_ for you to figure out your theory?” –he asks, sarcastic.

“ _Listen,_ I could keep asking questions all day. This is _fascinating._ ” –she smirks. “But I think I have enough, yeah.”

The Huntress’ armor fully retracts, and she sits down on a nearby old sofa. “So, Amity-brand ghost basics.” –she begins. “No human has ever seen it happen, but from first-hand accounts of the process, _our_ ghosts form when a human soul is infused with massive amounts of ectoplasm – enough that the merger results in an empowered physical form.”

“The green goo.” –Nico narrows his eyes. “How does it work? Where does it even come from?”

“Getting there.” –Valerie chastises. “Ectoplasm comes from a place we call the Ghost Zone – everything inside it is made of the stuff. It almost functions like a pocket dimension, but as far as we know, the Ghost Zone is infinite. Ectoplasm is a… _weird_ substance; you can touch it, drink it, and even _breathe_ it, no problem. But when it collects and ages, it tends to _mutate_ – to the point where, after a certain threshold, it will become a cohesive being, the way organic compounds developed into single cell organisms. They’re pretty simple creatures, whose only desire is to consume more ectoplasm and grow more powerful.”

“We call them _ectopuses._ ” –Ellie smirks. “Y’know, ‘cause they look like an evil octopus.”

It’s not the _weirdest_ thing he’s heard, but Nico thinks it’s up there. Valerie continues. “An ectopus has three paths in life; be consumed by another ectopus, consume enough ectoplasm that it can mutate into one of the native lifeforms in the Ghost Zone…or merge with a derelict human soul and form what _we_ call a ghost.”

Valerie gives Ellie a pointed look, which she takes as her cue to transform, once more, into her supernatural alter ego. “Y’know, like this!” –she poses.

Nico examines the jumpsuit-clad heroine more closely, now that there isn’t a pressing emergency happening. Her irises glow an unnatural neon green, and her long hair, held back in a ponytail, is white like the purest snow. A brilliant glow clings to her skin like a film, maybe half an inch from her body, powerful enough to make the natural light in the apartment seem dim. If he looks closely enough, he can see that the veins under Ellie’s pale skin are a dull green – which leads him to assume that it’s _ectoplasm_ coursing through her veins, not blood. It’s a _hell_ of a look – and he’s _extremely_ jealous that she can change into it at a moment’s notice. Putting on his armor isn’t _nearly_ this fast.

“So, what you’re saying is that the wandering souls that the death gods miss, for some reason or another, get hunted down by _living globs of ectoplasm_ so they can fuse with them into something like that Technus guy?” –Nico asks.

Valerie shrugs. “Like you said, it’s a little more complicated than that. It can’t just be any old soul; they need to have an intense desire to stay alive, some kind of emotional anchor keeping them around.” –she narrows her eyes. “Maybe _that’s_ why your death gods missed them in the first place.”

Nico hums. It’s as good an explanation as any, he supposes. It explains why Nicolai split into two distinct halves when he banished his soul – one of pure ectoplasm, another his Shade, sent straight to Charon, his _Obol_ charged to Hades’ endless coffers. One thing doesn’t make sense, though. “But… _you’re_ not dead.” –he tells Ellie, almost accusatory. “I would know. My _death senses_ would tingle.”

“Well, first of all, _creepy._ ” –Ellie crosses her arms. “Second of all, I’m a _special_ case. I’m only _half_ ghost.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for your attention! Make sure to comment or message me if you have any questions about this story. Look me up on Twitter as Darthkvzn or Tumblr as darthkvznblogs if you'd like - and on Ko-fi, as Darthkvzn, if you like what I do and have a buck to spare.
> 
> Until next time!

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thank you for your attention! Make sure to comment or message me if you have any questions about this story. Look me up on Twitter as Darthkvzn or Tumblr as darthkvznblogs if you'd like - and on Ko-fi, as Darthkvzn, if you like what I do and have a buck to spare.
> 
> Until next time!


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